


The Siren's Song

by cigarettes_and_coffee



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Confusion, Kissing, M/M, Marcus has never had delibert or voluntary sex, OOC Peter (because we dont really know his character yet), Virgin-ish Marcus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:23:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cigarettes_and_coffee/pseuds/cigarettes_and_coffee
Summary: One shot, Marcus and Peter on 'the boat' drabble.





	The Siren's Song

**Author's Note:**

> I know the actual scene will be a lot better, reguardless of the out come. (Hopefully >_<) But I couldn't help myself.lol

Marcus looked down at the floor broads of the boat, a level of self awareness and insecurity consuming him in ways he hadn’t felt since he could remember… 

Of course their had been “late night exploring” and inexperienced fumbling in the night when left unsupervised by the church, hormonaly driven and damage adolescent comforting each other the best they could in the darkest corners of the church. But not like _this_ … _nothing_ like this..

“I’m sorry I thought you…”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, his demeanor written with a mixture of awkward embarrassment and genuine regret for coming on so strongly. He had been so certain that what he was feeling for the other man been reciprocated, the cliche metaphor of: sexual tension that could be cut with the knife in-between them could have applied, that he didn’t think twice before pushing the other man into the wall of the boat cabin and claiming his mouth, their kiss had been hot and heavy, and Marcus had submitted so easily to him, so beautifully,( it had even surprise him at first… as the former priest didn’t come across the type to just surrender himself…. ~~more of a ‘battle of tongues’ sort if you caught his drift…~~

_’Touch starve perhaps?'_ Peter had found himself idly wondering in the back of his mind, though he doubted someone like Marcus would be. ) As he reached down to cup the other man’s groin, caressing the erect heated flesh that greeted his hand under the rough jean clad fabric, before quickly angling their hips so he could indulging in one of his favorite forms of foreplay: the feeling of another mans hard cock against his own. However when he withdrew slightly to look at the other man (selfishly wanting to get a first hand peak what the former priest looked like in pleasure), he found the gut-wrenching opposite: Marcus’s head turned away from him, his face twisted with wide range of emotions (pleasure definitely not being one) but anxiety and panic on top of the list, followed by sharp, almost violent shove to his chest by the other man.

“Don’t be, I am priest I…” Marcus interrupted hastily, bring Peter back to the present, his tone a bit sharper than intended, still trying to catch his breath, his lips burning from their encounter, as a slight tremor ran through his body, coming down from his own sensory over, only to stop before relizaing his own error in his words.

 

“I _was_ a priest…” Marcus couched into his fist, the regret form his involuntary actions sobering him in the worst way as he regaining his voice and composer.

 

“For 40 some odd years, I was raised in the church… I’ve never…”

 

Marcus squeezed his eyes shut before forcing himself to looking at Peter again, the emotion raw in his eyes, hoping his broken confession would be enough the other man would get the implication without having to verbalize the unbecoming truth about his sexual experiences more precisely the lack there of…

 

“So you never…”

 

Peters eye went wide for a spit second, before processing the information and then finally excepting it.

 

“Okay, okay…”

 

He swallowed, this wasn't exactly what he had been expecting when he invited Marcus on the boat... (himself being caught somewhere in-between a 'secret hopeless romantic’ and 'living in the moment and not a second longer’ type.) Soft-heartily hoping for a 'good time’, a bitter-sweet nostalgic night filled with palpable, almost flirtatious tension and good conversation (which it had been... up until the point he felt like he had violated the other man), that would ultimately result in him 'working it out’ later when he was left alone to his own vices…(after all he was no spring chicken and his 'game’ wasn’t exactly what is was when he was in his 20’s) or at the very least (or best… depending on how you look at it ) a night of furious and unforgiving passion that would leaving him feeling raw and used in the morning in all the right places, if things turned that way…

 

But instead a damming silence swallowed them as Peter looked the other man over like he was noticing him for the first time … The scars on Marcus face and neck (accompanied by a soft pink mark he had left ) seem to call to him like siren song, when he caught a glimpse of Marcus’s shirt collar pulled down far enough to expose bite mark… a human bite mark… and not the kind a lover would leave either… (not that he didn’t sport a few his own scars living the life of a "wild life biologist" having ran cross more than a few unforgiving creatures in his time.) But this was different… _it was cruel_ … Peter thought frowning.

 

And much like the fisher men’s boat that met the rocky coast under the spell of the siren, his finger tips were drawn to the uneven skin… Right away he could tell Marcus was struggling just under the surface, perhaps fighting the urge to flinch or hide away, however the exorcist stood emotionless, patient and unmoving, in turn causing memories from thier earlier mishap to come flooding back into Peter’s mind as he withdrew from the touch…

 

“Could I kiss you again…”

 

Marcus was quite for a few seconds, skepticism painted his face was almost feline in mannerism to Peter.

 

“Sure.”

TBC? If anyone would like?


End file.
